


A Fresh Start

by vanillalime



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Community: oz_magi, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Some Humor, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: McManus is in for a surprise when he meets with Querns to discuss re-opening Em City after the deadly chemical spill in the series finale.
Relationships: Tim McManus & Martin Querns
Kudos: 2
Collections: Oz Magi





	A Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cmk418](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmk418/gifts).



> Originally posted to Dreamwidth. Written for cmk418 for Oz Magi 2020. The request:
> 
> Pairing/Character(s): Martin Querns & Tim McManus (or Martin Querns/Tim McManus)  
> Keyword/Prompt Phrase: teamwork – Post-series they have to work together to get Emerald City up and running again  
> Canon/AU/Either: AU  
> Special Requests: Humor is always good with these two and if it wants to go the way of slash, that's perfectly fine  
> Story/Art/Either: Story

Fauna slowly opened the door to the warden’s office. With a smile, she announced, "Excuse me, sir, but Tim McManus would like to see you."

Martin Querns pinched his nose between two fingers. "Tell him I’m in the middle of an important meeting."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Fauna began, nervously tucking her hair behind an ear. "But… "

Suddenly, Tim appeared out of nowhere. He charged into the room, took a seat across from Querns’ desk, and declared, "You can’t ignore me forever."

With a groan, Querns leaned back in his chair. "Why not?"

Tim blinked, at a loss for words. "Because you can’t," he eventually retorted.

A heavy silence settled over the room until Querns broke it with a sigh. He looked at Fauna and motioned toward the door. "It’s all right," he told her. "Hold my calls for a while."

Tim turned and winked at her. "Thanks, Fauna."

Fauna blushed. Toying with the collar of her blouse, she looked at Querns and softly said, "Again, I apologize for the miscommunication."

As Tim watched closely, Fauna backed out of the room and carefully shut the door behind her.

"Tim."

Tim slowly looked back toward Querns. "Mmm?"

"Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

Querns leaned forward across his desk. "You know goddamn well what," he growled. "It’s nearly impossible to find a good secretary, especially one who’s willing to work here. I got lucky with Fauna, and I don’t need you making a big mess of things."

Tim smiled sheepishly. "I don’t know what you mean."

"Really? Maybe I should have Dr. Nathan or Claire Howell come in and draw you a diagram."

Tim’s smile vanished.

"What do you want, Tim?"

Tim cleared his throat. "We really need to work on a plan for re-opening Em City," he stated. "Staff changes, inmate organization, special programs, that sort of thing."

"All right," Querns grunted. "Where do you want to start?" 

"Well, now that Sean has been promoted, I need a new Number Two."

Querns slowly nodded his head. "Any suggestions?"

"I was thinking Joe Mineo, although I'd be good with almost anyone," Tim replied. He paused, then wryly added, "With the notable exception of Claire, obviously. I think that it's in everyone's best interest that she stays in Solitary."

"Wait." Querns tilted his head. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?"

"I can't believe that you don't know," Querns grinned, clearly relishing his role as the bearer of good gossip. "The Oz rumor mill has been running in overdrive."

Tim folded his arms across his chest. "Sorry, but I've been a little preoccupied with the fact that Oz had a chemical spill that killed eight people. So maybe you should just tell me what’s going on."

"Claire Howell quit."

"What? Why?"

"She's pregnant."

Tim's jaw dropped. Then closed. Then dropped again. Several seconds later, he managed to regain his composure long enough to ask, "Who's the father?"

"Well, most people think it's Sean Murphy."

Tim's cheeks quickly turned an interesting shade of purple. "WHAT?" he choked, as the color spread across his face and up toward balding head.

With a large belly laugh, Querns slapped his hand on his desk. "Jesus, Tim," he exclaimed. "I was joking!"

The coloring of Tim's face slowly returned to normal. "Of course," he feebly mumbled. "Ha. Funny."

Querns gave Tim a long, calculating look before continuing. "The truth of matter is, Claire's keeping the identify of the father to herself. Although, judging by your reaction, I guess we can strike your name from the list."

Tim nodded his head. "And Sean’s, too," he added emphatically.

Again, Querns eyed him steadily. Then, with a wave of his hand, he said, "Mineo is an excellent choice. Reliable, honest, experienced. We'll give him a raise to make it worth his while."

Tim's eyebrow shot up. "Really? That's quite generous of you."

Querns shrugged and made a note on a piece of paper. "What else you want to discuss?"

Tim shifted in his seat. "I was thinking that we should reinstate something we had here years ago—a Special Council made up of inmates to advise me. We start by physically dividing Em City into groups: the Muslims, the Latinos, the Aryans, the bikers, etc. Each group will then elect a representative who serves on the council."

Querns stared at him. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Why? Do you have a problem with the idea?"

"Tim, I am probably the least politically correct person working here, and even I think that arrangement sounds incredibly politically incorrect."

"It's not politically incorrect at all!" Tim proclaimed. "This way, every minority in Em City who feels ignored or disregarded has a voice. An equal voice!"

"I say no. It’s a recipe for disaster. No wonder it didn’t pan out the first time. The idea of a Special Council is fine, but you need to come up with a different method of selecting its members."

"Okay, then," Tim huffed. "Exactly how do you propose we handle it?"

"You know the inmates of Em City better than anyone," Querns told him. "Pick and choose the people who you think will give you the best advice. People who’ll be honest with you. People who’ve been here a while, who will work well together. People like Rebadow, Beecher, O’Reily."

"They’re all white!"

"So?" Querns retorted. "The main objective is to establish a council that will help you make successful improvements to Em City. And if you feel that strongly about it, I’m sure there are plenty of minorities who would be equally effective members. Ask Arif and Alvarez. Maybe Redding."

Querns paused to take a deep breath. "But trust me," he added earnestly. "Don’t throw an Aryan, or even a biker, into the mix just for purposes of equal representation. Any one of them is bound to ruin the whole thing."

Tim’s features softened slightly. "Maybe you’re right."

"It’s akin to making someone like Beecher cellmates with someone like Schillinger," Querns mused. "It’s irresponsible and just asking for trouble."

Tim developed a sudden coughing fit. When it was over, he said, "Well, I hope I can convince the right inmates to take part in this. If I have to force them into it, it probably won’t work out."

Querns grinned. "We’ll pay them for their time. I’m sure that will increase their level of enthusiasm."

Tim threw his head back. "We will?"

"Sure." Querns made another note. "Now, did you have anything else on your mind?"

Tim rubbed a hand across his face. "I want to re-establish the mandatory GED program. Education is crucial to inmates turning their lives around. Any inmate without a high school diploma should be working toward a GED if they want to be a part of Em City."

Querns nodded. "I agree."

Tim sighed. "The problem is, students require teachers. Last time, I used an inmate as a volunteer teacher, but it was far from an ideal situation."

Querns drummed his pen against the top of his desk. "Maybe we should hire a real, full-time teacher," he proposed. "What do you think?"

Tim’s eyes opened wide. "Well, uh," he stammered, "that sounds great."

"You know who else we should hire?"

"Santa Claus?"

Querns chuckled. "No, but I’ll keep that mind for next year."

"Who?"

Querns folded his fingers together. "How about an art therapist?"

Tim froze.

"I know we have a good performing arts program here," Querns continued. "Suzanne Fitzgerald has done an amazing job. But a lot of these guys aren’t particularly interested in singing or acting. Maybe they would find the visual arts appealing. We could offer art classes, something that could be used as a creative outlet for their frustration and anger."

Querns paused long enough to add to his notes. "No scissors, of course," he said, more to himself than to Tim. "But paint and chalk and markers would be harmless enough. Paper, too, obviously. Maybe they can do origami."

Tim held up his hand and finally found his voice. "You’re mocking me, aren’t you?"

"What?" Querns looked up in surprise. "No, I’m not."

"Then, what gives? Why are you willing to put so much money into Em City all of a sudden? Where is all this money coming from?"

A slow smile spread across Querns' face. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course."

Querns leaned forward across the desk. "I discovered that the contractor who was hired to clean up Oz after the chemical spill was double-billing us for multiple things. He was trying to fuck us over. And what's my Number One rule?"

"Don't fuck with Querns."

"Exactly," Querns nodded. "It added up to quite a lot of money. So I confronted him and gave him a choice. He could be arrested and convicted of fraud, at which point I would make sure he was sent to this fine institution for some proper rehabilitation. OR, he could make a quiet, private, generous donation to our operating budget."

"Apparently he chose the latter."

"You bet your ass he did," Querns laughed. "Wrote me a check then and there."

Tilting his head, Tim said, "But you could’ve used that money on yourself. You could’ve renovated your office or something. Why are you giving it to Em City?"

"I’ve told you this before, Tim," Querns replied quietly. "I’m a fan of the Em City concept. Having money just makes it easier to show it."

Tim smiled. He stood up and held out his hand. "Martin," he said, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Querns warmly shook his hand, and Tim left. He walked right past Fauna’s desk without so much as saying a word, heading directly back to Em City.

Home, sweet home.


End file.
